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But several commenters are right…to hold on to Esme would be to hold on to the past. And I really, really, am looking forward to the future.

So I started a new blog, with a new name. I was hesitant to share it here, but you all follow me for a reason! So set your address bars to secondchanceatlove.wordpress.com. I would like to think you wouldn’t be disappointed!

I never expected this blog to last as long as it did. For those who have not read for the last three years (YIKES!), my dating life began as a bet. A bet, you ask wide-eyed? Yes, a bet. And I didn’t even admit that until the year was almost over…read on…

I didn’t have a great marriage. Far from it. After I grew steel ovaries, I finally walked away. By far, the hardest decision I ever made, but also the best decision I ever made. I took a lot of time to be alone. I fudged timelines in this blog to keep any suspicion of off me, but I was alone for quite some time. Almost a year. I LOVED IT. I had to learn how to make decisions on my own, how to be alone, how to live alone. How to be scared alone, lonely alone, cry alone. How to be happy alone, joyful alone, elated alone. I had to figure out who I was, and who I wanted to be. I took joy in picking out a pink couch for my living room! I felt the frustration when I had problems I should have been able to solve on my own. Am I painting the picture I want you to see? I had to learn how to LIVE.

After many hours of therapy, of ups and downs, of trials and tribulations, I finally made it to a great place. Am I perfect? Nope. Neither are you. Will I continue to learn? Absolutely. I still attend a weekly group for domestic abuse. I continue to bring something home from that class EVERY WEEK. And I will continue to go for the forseeable future. It continues to help mold me into the person I wish to be.

So I reached a happy place. I was content with where I was in life. I was in love with the sassy woman I had become. I was confident, and I was venturing out more and more.

What I found was this: as my confidence and self-esteem grew, I became more attractive to the opposite sex. It didn’t matter if I was dressed to the nines, or if I was grunging in jeans and an old t-shirt. I was getting asked out on dates, all of which I turned down. My friend Sunday (whom, coincidentally I’m no longer friends with) issued a challenge.

How are you going to know what kind of man you want if you don’t date?

Interesting. How was I going to know? I knew what I DIDN’T want. We all know what we don’t want, especially after bad relationships.

So I issue to you this challenge. For one year, you cannot turn down a date. You have to go out with any guy who asks. What better way to learn about dating?

ONE YEAR? A whole 365 days? Is she crazy?!? I asked her why the hell I would agree to that.

Because I don’t think you will actually do it.

That sealed it. Tell me I can’t do something, and it gives me all the motivation I need to prove that person wrong. We went over tips and rules for my safety. Obviously if some 6’10 dude with blood splatter on an axe asks me for a date, I am allowed to say no. Basically, I had to give every guy (minus the Misery guy) a chance. I also had to make myself available. Internet dating, going out, blind dates, etc. Before I knew it, I was entered into an agreement I really wasn’t sure I wanted. And it didn’t take long to begin.

You all have read the by-products of that agreement. As I stated before, I messed with the timeline so I couldn’t be pinpointed. I wrote about some of the more interesting dates (8 kids, anyone?), the scary dates (like when I was almost date-raped), and the two failed relationships I should have NEVER gotten myself into (just click on the Perfect and Mr. Hottie tags for all of that drama *eye-roll*). I wrote about getting stood-up repeatedly, and about my sexual adventures. I wrote about my hopes, fears, wants and desires. I really used this blog as an outlet for all things Esme.

The year of yes came and went. What i expected to get out of it I wasn’t sure. Even now, I am not sure what I expected to get out of it! But I did learn, and I learned a lot. I learned how to keep myself safe. I learned that there are some bad people out there, but there are also some pretty great ones. I made new friends and gained a few stalkers. I learned more of what I DIDN’T want, but still couldn’t tell you what I DID want. I think after all of that, I could turn first-time dating into a business. I even started to follow a set of rules I made for myself, which has its own page on this blog.

I wish I wouldv’e counted how many first dates I had. I wrote about a lot, but not all. Some were completely forgettable, not worth the words on this page (and they are free). I am glad I have this blog as a reference. Some of what I’ve written about I forget!

After the year was up, I continued to date, however I became a lot more selective. Did my ‘selection’ work? Nope. I was still surrounded by douchebags, as you all know.

So fast forward these three years to present day. I’m sitting here writing this entry as a completely different person than when I started this blog. I haven’t lost my sassy self. I haven’t lost my confidence or my moxie. But what I gained was love.

That’s right, this Esme is wonderfully, irrevocably, incredibly in love.

And not only am I in love, I am 100% loved in return.

I’ve known for sometime I was in love. I’ve written about it. Loverboy has told me several times that he loves me. Did I believe him when he said that? Sure I did. But I didn’t let myself feel that love, or enjoy that love. I expected it to be taken away.

Only lately have I learned how to be loved. How it feels to have unconditional acceptance. And it’s pretty fucking amazing.

Both of our friends and family remark on how much happier we seem. No matter how bad my day is, I revel in the fact I will get to talk to and see Loverboy. I know his voice and his presence will calm me. He tells me often that his workday is better knowing he will get to see me at the end of it.

I know it all sounds so…gaggy. Even I never thought I would meet someone I would WANT to see regularly. But now, I am exactly where I want to be.

So why am I telling you all of this?

I have sat in front of my computer several times this last month. I open up the ‘new post’ tab, and I stare at the blank white canvas where my words are supposed to go. Do I write about the Jason Bourne marathon we just had? How about the time he kicked my ass on Call of Duty? Do I tell you of the night we cuddled during the thunderstorm and talked of simple things? Or the time we had a few beers and talked about what we were like in high school? (For the record, I would have NEVER talked to someone like him in high school, but I wouldv’e lusted from a distance. I got me a true bad boy ;))

That’s when it hit me-I am boring. We are boring. We are one of those boring couples I have always wanted to be!!

We spend our evenings playing with children, then sitting on the couch watching Spongebob while he has his arm around me. We go to bed have mind-blowing sex, sleep, then have morning sex. He goes to work, I go home and do whatever (still off on work comp). Then we do it all over again. We sometimes go out. We sometimes fight. But most of all, I just really enjoy those quiet nights at his place.

I craved this normalcy for a very long time. I always wanted normal. I know normal is perceived as boring, but not in my world. I never cuddled on the couch and watched TV in my marriage. I never snuggled during a thunderstorm and talked. I never had my vision of what a relationship is.

And now I do.

So where do I go from here? I have no crystal ball to see what my future with Loverboy will be like. We could break up tomorrow (with me being completely devastated), or we could move in together and eventually get married. The thought of the latter doesn’t bother me anymore (before I would break out in hives with the thought of marriage).

The future of this blog? I don’t know that either. I could complain about my shoulder and how I probably won’t be able to medic again. I can bitch about my ex-husband. I could regale you with stories of my awesomely boring evenings with Loverboy. I could write about how, even after all these months, I am still trying to figure out what a partnership is all about-since I have never had one before. This started out as a dating blog, and it seems wrong to make it about anything else. Even though I am extremely happy with “boring’ in my relationship, the last thing I want to do is bore my readers.

So I am going to leave it up to you all (if you are indeed still reading this very long post). I love to write and share. But when it comes to Love, Esme, I am at a loss of what to do. Comments and suggestions are most welcome.

Loverboy and I finally had to agree to not talk about Daughter. Why? Well, read on.

He came home from work the other day. I was at his house since I had both sets of children, so I figured I would make a nice home-cooked meal. L walks in the door, sunny and happy, until he realizes Daughter is home. Like someone flipped a switch, he became sullen, grumpy, and reserved. Basically, a shit to be around.

During dinner, the two of them started getting into it. I finished my meal, and shooed the other kids out of the dining room. A few minutes later, L comes storming out, throws his plate in the sink, and follows Daughter down the stairs into her basement dwelling.

An hour passes.

L finally emerged, and is pulling the fake happy off with everyone. I am sure everyone knows what that is-it is obnoxious, annoying, irritating, and any other negative -ing adjective you can think of. I ask to speak with him upstairs, and I let some more of what is bothering me off of my chest.

I informed him that every time his daughter is around, his disposition changes dramatically. My kids ask about it, his kids ask about it. He treats everyone different. He won’t hug or kiss me when she is around (but will in front of his younger kids). He barely talks to me when she is around. He doesn’t smile. Get the idea? He is letting his 21-year-old run his emotions.

L then told me that he doesn’t know how to take what I have said, and that his attitude doesn’t change. I reiterated it does indeed change. He said it bothers him when I talk about Daughter. He said he knows she has issues, he knows she is a loser, but he will never turn his back on her, and she will always have a place to live. He said he doesn’t want me to bring it up again.

I looked at him for a minute, and said OK. I was totally thrown by his last comment, because he always asks for advice. I always tell him that she isn’t my daughter, so I can’t say.

Several days ago he brought up us moving in together. I told him that until he and his daughter fix whatever they have going on, I won’t move in. He seemed to accept it. He knows I have become increasingly uncomfortable, and he told me then that she will always have a home with him. So we all know I will never win this. I don’t think I should even expect to.

Sorry, I know this post is kind of rambly. I am just so torn and lost.

We have been talking about future stuff lately-never thought I would do that again! Anyways-we have. He wants a future with me. He wants me to move in with him next year. He wants me.

So…stop me if I am wrong here…

I think at some point I should expect to be first. I think for once he should focus on his happiness, and tell Daughter that if she can’t play ball, she can get her own fucking life instead of mooching off of him. I am not saying to cut her out. I am not saying to replace her. I am simply saying that he should focus on Loverboy.

And, of course, I want to know that I mean enough to him that he stands up for me and/or fights for me.

He tells me often that I am so important to him. And yet I now feel like limitations have been placed on our conversations. On our relationship. On our future.

To end the conversation, I told him that if he continues to let her call the shots, he is going to wind up a lonely old man, and it could be someday soon.

He reiterated how much I mean to him. I shook my head, and walked out of the room.

Loverboy and I finally had the convo I have been dreading…the convo about his daughter.

I finally told him that I have become increasingly uncomfortable when she is home, and that is why I have left on several occasions. I told him that I am tired of cleaning up after her-and I don’t even live there. I told him that I have a problem with the comments, and the outright disrespect she shows in my presence. I also told him that I will continue to make myself scarce when she is home, because I don’t want to be the cause of any of their problems.

L told me that he knows his daughter is a major loser (how sad is that when you say that about your own kid? But it is true). He said that he doesn’t think she has hostility toward me, but the situation of him dating after being single for so long. He also said that she will always be welcome in his home-no matter what.

I expected that last line, and was prepared for it. I would never expect someone to give up their child for a relationship.

L reiterated that he feels Daughter would be acting like this anyways-no matter who he dated. He then told me that I am also always welcome in his home, and he will never ask me to leave just because Daughter is angry or upset.

So basically what I got from the conversation is this-absolutely nothing.

I don’t expect him to choose sides-I am sure I would lose. I don’t expect him to kick her out, even though I really think she needs to learn a life lesson. So what did I expect? I am not sure. A promise that he would talk to her about her behavior? That would have been a start.

I often try to think about mine and L’s future…and I can’t get past next year. I believe we will never be able to move forward until he gets the daughter situation handled. Her behavior, her disrespect, her partying and drinking, her complete lack of direction, plans, and future.

We won’t move in together if she is there-I don’t want that around me or my kids. We won’t continue to have a good relationship if I am always concerned about how my presence affects their relationship. L has asked me to please put differences aside and find a way to get along. I don’t think we have differences, just one bad attitude I’ve attempted to get along with.

I just don’t know what to do from here. I love him, so very much. I love his other children. I love US. But how long can this continue?

In, like, FOREVER. FFFOOORRR-EEEVVVVV-EEEERRRRRR (props to whomever can name the movie).

I have no account of anguish. No sad saga of salty tears shed. Not even a concerning chronicle of cat-fights. (Hooray for alliteration!!)

Things have been…phenomenal. Well, with Loverboy, at least.

Sure we have had little spats. Who doesn’t? But the important thing is we have been able to work through them without misunderstandings, miscommunications, and misfires.

Our only slight snag?

His daughter.

It seems she has been taking some anger and frustration she has with her father, and moving it toward me. She makes very thinly veiled remarks when I am within ear shot. She brings me up whenever they argue. L has told her that what he and I do together is none of her concern, but it keeps happening.

I am at the point that when she is home (which is rare), I leave. If I have my kids, we all leave. I have gotten increasingly uncomfortable being in her presence. I mentioned it to L, and he is aware of the situation, but he is at a loss at what to do. He is still holding out hope that she will move out soon, that she will finally grow up and get a life, that etc. etc. etc.

It’s not going to happen.

This is a woman in her early twenties that is completely content at her part-time minimum-wage job because it covers her cigarettes, booze, and weed. AND THAT’S IT. I have never met someone who has literally no ambition.

NONE.

Big. Fat. Zero.

I have told him that I will never move in with him as long as she is living in his basement. I refuse to battle daily with someone who has no respect for me, or for her dad.

Two or three days after Loverboy commenced the Silent Treatment-I lost count while I was insanely flashing back-I got a call from L. It was during the day, so I knew he was at work. Hmm…not much conversation can happen while one is working…

L: Esme, hey.

E: Hey?

L: What are you up to?

E: Nothing?

L: How have you been?

How have I been?? Are you fucking kidding me??

I unleashed. I told him how much he has hurt me the last few days. Explained the dark place he sent me to. How incredibly barbaric it was of him to Silent Treatment me when he knows my past. In turn, he told me how much he was looking forward to that night with me. How for six months he has been talking about me non-stop to his family, and he was so excited to show them this ‘amazing woman who wanted to date’ him.

Loverboy gave me pause. Was this argument all about that? The fact that he just really wanted to introduce me to his family, to ‘show me off’, so to speak? Not that that revelation excused his behavior toward me the following days, but I am friends with enough dudes to know that the introduction of someone you are in love with is a huge fucking deal.

L got choked up, and asked if I could just come over that night to talk. I agreed, as this conversation would be way more productive in person.

After the Silent Treatment started, I had walked around my house gathering up all of his shit, including everything he had ever given me. Sooo…it is safe to say I was fucking pissed. I grabbed the pile off of my kitchen table, and took it with me. Why? I’m not sure. To let him know I was pissed?

When I walked in the door, I plopped the pile on his kitchen table. L just looked at me.

E: This is all your shit that was at my house, and I am tired of looking at it.

Loverboy was rendered speechless. After a minute or two, he crossed the kitchen and took me into his arms. After a few seconds, I hugged him back. And we stood in silence for several long moments and just hugged. We needed that, it calmed us down.

We were able to have a very calm, rational discussion following that hug. He explained that he was so upset at the situation, he could feel himself taking it out on me, which he didn’t want to do. So in his weird male-hormoned brain, not talking to me made more sense. I explained why he can’t give me the Silent Treatment. I gave him an alternative-please just tell me you are angry at me or at a situation, and you need to calm down before we can discuss it rationally. He agreed to be more forthcoming about his feelings, and I accepted what he said at face value. Can I promise to not revert when Silent Treatment is given again? Nope. But I did promise that if he ever gave me the Silent Treatment again, he would never have to bother calling me. EVER again.

For a few days we had an uneasy alliance. You know those first few days after a major blowout and everyone is walking on egg shells? We did that. And one day, it was just all better.

The scare seemed to change Loverboy. He is a lot more open with his feelings, often telling me how lucky he is, how great I am, how he loves me, etc. He is more touchy-feely in front of family (before he would barely hold my hand). The changes have definitely been positive, and make me feel much more appreciated.

We will see how it goes.

On the This shit only happens to me front…

I met Loverboy’s new neighbors the other day. Neighbor caught sight of my firefighter plates on my vehicle, and inquired to where I work. I told him, and he asked me if I knew Ambulance Guy.

Are you fucking kidding me?? Ambulance Guys brother moved in next door to my boyfriend?!?

Never mind that my babysitter fell through two hours prior, and I could find no one else.

It is all my fault.

And now, I’m pissed.

I mean, REALLY?? He has kids of his own. He knows how this works. SHIT HAPPENS.

What am I supposed to do with his anger?

He has been giving me the silent treatment ever since.

My ex-husband used to give me the silent treatment before he would haul off and hit me. Does Loverboy know this? Yes he does. I have told him on several occasions that he, under no circumstances, can give me the silent treatment. I makes me flash back. It makes me cower on the floor and rock back and forth. It makes me insane. Literally.

I feel like if a man has any love or respect for you what-so-ever, he will not do something to you that causes these reactions. He would take into account what you have said, how you feel, and work accordingly. Why do I think that? Because I would do it for the man I love.

I made sure he always felt appreciated, always felt loved, and always felt like I would be faithful.

These are the unbelievable, but true, stories of my dating adventures. I have made a lot of mistakes, but I am having a hell of a good time! And you men...you keep surprising me...and that isn't always a good thing...